


Fate Marks the Spot

by kayromantic



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Despite the soulmate thing this is a canon-ish AU, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, also somewhat roommate-lovers though that's besides the point, and are really complicated when you share one with a prince of england, soul marks exist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21825940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayromantic/pseuds/kayromantic
Summary: Alex Claremont-Diaz wants absolutely nothing to do with Prince Henry of Wales and would be completely happy to never speak or be in the same room with him again.Except for the tiny fact that Henry bears his mark.A/K/A: What if Alex and Henry were soulmates, literally.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Comments: 28
Kudos: 428
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Fate Marks the Spot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [misprinting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/misprinting/gifts).



> Thank you to satelliteinasupernova for the beta and the support.

The first paragraph Wikipedia entry on soulmarks as of January 2, 2021:

_The **soulmark** is the common name for a marking shared by two people at the same time. The marks have traditionally been interpreted to be a show that one is a someone’s soulmate. It is estimated that approximately 3 million people have soul marks. The International Soulmate Society, which specializes in matching people with soul marks together, estimate that the vast majority of people who have a mark find happiness and permanence with the person who bears their mark._

_…….._

_It is noted that close to ninety percent of all members of a royal family from any of the existing monarchies bears a soulmark._

ARE FSOTUS AND PRINCE HENRY SOULMATES? A LOOK BEHIND THE INTERNET’S MOST SCANDALOUS CONSPIRACY THEORY, — _Buzzfeed,_ posted January 31, 2021

WHITE HOUSE RUSHES TO DO DAMAGE CONTROL AFTER FSOTUS ‘ATTACKS’ PRINCE HENRY OF WALES — CNN, posted April 5, 2021.

* * *

“You need to calm down.”

Alex stopped his frantic pacing across his bedroom in the Residence and glared at June, who was sitting cross-legged on the bed amidst a pile of clothes and a couple of open suitcases, rifling through a box of Ho Hos.

“Easy for you to say,” Alex said, “Your life didn’t just blow up in your face.”

June shrugged as she unwrapped a Ho Ho. The crinkling sound of the plastic wrapper felt like nails scraped across a chalkboard. Her seeming indifference to the absolute mess that was Alex’s life was more disheartening than Alex really wanted to admit. His life WAS over, she could at least manage some sympathy for his situation.

“Well I wasn’t the one who accosted the Prince of England,” June said.

“I didn’t accost him!” Alex said immediately on the defensive, because if he was honest, he had accosted Henry just three days prior at the last state dinner.

But he wasn’t going to admit that to June, he would never hear the end of it. He knew if he agreed with her, he would have to remember exactly why he’d accosted Henry. He definitely did not want to think about that.

“So is it true?”

Both June and Alex turned to Nora on the couch with her laptop open. She’d been silent during the whole previous exchange, preferring to just let the Claremont-Diaz siblings squabble while she went back to whatever it was that she was working on. There were always so many things that Alex could never quite keep track.

“Is what true?” Alex asked.

“Did he have it?” Nora asked before turning back to her laptop.

Alex felt June’s gaze turn back on him, and Alex’s mind returned to the incident that had spawned the whole mess in the first place and what had incited it. Alex didn’t want to have anything to do with Prince Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor.

Except Henry bore his mark.

“Well, uh, I mean….” Alex stammered.

June and Nora both took Alex’s hesitation as a confirmation that it was true, even if Alex wouldn’t admit it.

“So walk me through what happened again?” Nora asked, and by the glint in her eye, he could tell she was really just prodding him.

God this really was a nightmare.

It was the first state dinner following President Claremont’s re-election, and as their closest allies, Henry was escorting the Prime Minister for the occasion. Alex wasn’t really planning on interacting with Henry at all outside of the initial greeting.

Alex didn’t know why, but there was just something about Prince Henry of Wales that set him on edge. It was more than the snubbing at the Olympics, it was like the whole of his body reacted to Henry’s presence whenever they were in the same room. Alex was slightly unnerved by it, so he played into the antagonism too. Outwardly, he would complain about how boring and bland and overhyped Henry was and how he resented the ways that the press constantly compared them.

Alex was pretty sure the feelings were mutual, because Henry always seemed distinctly cold and distant when speaking to Alex. Which was just fine with him.

Except that night, Henry had spent an awful lot of time speaking with June, who in an act of absolute disloyalty to her little brother, was not as in hate with Henry as Alex was, and seemed to find the Prince quite entertaining.

It drove Alex mad as he saw the photographers swarm around them. He was sure there was going to be quite the sensational story in the tabloids the next morning about the two of them. The picture of them together, though, did get to Alex. Even though he completely believed that nothing would ever come of it, the very idea of them together made his blood boil.

He wished Nora was here, but she actually had a family thing with the non-VP side of the family so it really was just him and June. So Alex basically just spent the whole dinner quietly stewing over his food and tried not to look at Henry.

It wasn’t until later when the dinner was over and everyone was mingling that Alex found himself thrust in Henry’s proximity. It was by the table of light refreshments, where Henry was picking through the assortment of cookies. Alex wanted to just grab a bottle of water and head back to where June was without even glancing in Henry’s direction.

Except out of the corner of Alex’s vision he caught a glimpse of Henry’s wrist between the edge of his glove and the cuff of his shirt. Normally, it wouldn’t be anything that Alex really cared about except for the dark mark in roughly the shape of a three leafed clover just barely visible under his shirt cuff.

Alex knew because the mark on Henry’s wrist matched the one Alex’s hip.

A soulmark. His soulmark.

And that was one thing that Alex could not stand for.

Alex liked to think that although he was prone to rash decisions all the time, that there was some purpose in everything he did, even if his thoughts would process for only a second. But at the sight of his mark on Henry’s skin, there was no thought, only action.

Alex grabbed Henry’s wrist and pulled it up. Henry tensed and had no time to act.

“What is this?” Alex asked, his voice a cool hiss.

“What are you doing?” Henry asked

“Is it a trick? Are you messing with me?” Alex asked again his voice raised slightly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about?” Henry asked, “Let me go this instant.”

“Take it off!”

“What?” Henry said and then let out a slight squeal when Alex pressed his index finger into the mark.

Alex tried to smudge the mark off, willing it to be some scribble or a tattoo, hoping and praying that it was anything other than what he feared it was.

Henry scratched at Alex’s hand trying to dislodge him, but Alex was too desperate and manic to let go or even loosen his grip..

“That’s my mark!” Alex yelled and if people didn’t notice what was going on before, they would now.

Henry said nothing but was finally able to push Alex back and dislodge his wrist from Alex’s grip. They both flew back from the force of it just as Secret Service and Henry’s PPO team had made it to them.

The whole ballroom was silent as both Alex and Henry were staring at each other, heaving. Henry from disbelief and Alex from anger. Alex just kept saying, like a mantra, “He can’t have my mark, he can’t have it!” over and over and over again.

It was only when he was pulled away that he fully realized what he had done.

His mother was surely going to be the first sitting President to commit filicide.

His mother had not killed him, at least not literally, but he took some pride that his actions had caused her to curse at him in front of a few fresh White House Interns. However that was the only pleasure Alex derived from the whole affair.

The response, at least as dictated to Alex during one of the many, many unbearable briefings, would be that he would have to issue a public apology, and state for the record that he and Prince Henry were on amicable terms-if not close friends-and that Alex would be going over to England for three days for what was being billed as a showing of goodwill.

It was a fucking apology tour is what it was.

There was no mention of the soul mark, outside of the directive that all responses to that question were to be of the “No Comment” variety from both the White House and the Crown.

“So you’re sure it was the mark?” June asked, pulling Alex from his memory of the nightmare and its.

Alex was quiet. He may have been half mad for it, but he had seen it clearly, it was indeed his mark.

“Yes,” he said.

Nora squealed in delight and Alex and June both shot her a glare.

“I can’t believe Prince Henry is your soulmate,” Nora said, “It’s like a fairy tale.”

“It is not,” Alex said, “He’s not my soulmate. I still think he’s trying to mess with me.”

“How would he know that,” June said, “I don’t think he’s ever seen yours. Did he even know you had one prior to this?”

Alex knew she was right. God, he hated when she was right.

“He’s a prince. He could have a spy in the White House,” Alex said.

“Alex, the royal family does not have a spy in the White House,” June said.

“You don’t know. Hell, maybe Zahra told Shaan,” Alex said, “I mean they are together.”

“I am pretty sure Zahra would not put her job on the line to describe your birth mark to Shaan in exact detail. Also, not everyone centers their conversations around you.”

Alex huffed.

“Either way,” Alex said, “Even if it is real, that doesn’t make him my soulmate. Nora, what’s the numbers on that.”

Without missing a beat Nora, in her element, began rattling off the pertinent information.

“It is estimated that roughly forty percent of the world’s population bears a soul mark. Of that population, research suggests that fifteen percent never meet the other person who bears their mark. Sixty percent is estimated to have met the person and become romantically involved with said partner at some point with the vast majority of those reporting that they entered into some long-term commitment with their ‘soulmate’ and the remaining purported to just maintain a platonic relationship with them,” Nora rattled off.

“I like those odds,” Alex said, “I am definitely in that twenty-five percent.”

“Are you sure?” June asked, who then shot a look at Nora. A sense of uneasiness washed across him as it always did when June and Nora seemed to fall into a silent conversation with each other. That never meant good things for Alex.

“Of course.”

“Wanna bet?” Nora said, but she wasn’t looking at Alex.

June looked at Nora and then back at Alex.

“Bet on what?” Alex asked, suddenly hyper aware that there was definitely something else going on in his room that he was completely aware of.

“What are the odds?” June asked, she completely ignored Alex’s question.

“Honestly, I would say five to one that Alex falls in deep, all-consuming love with Henry. 2-1 that either way he makes an absolute fool of himself in some capacity,” Nora rattled off.

June gave Alex a strange look and Alex tried to blow the whole thing off, but he knew his sister too well. She agreed with Nora.

Obviously, she didn’t know him as well as he knew her.

“I am not going to fall in love with Henry,” Alex insisted, but even to his own ears it sounded unconvincing.

“What’s the prize?” June asked.

“Hmmmm,” Nora said, “I would say $250 and spa day on the house.”

June looked like she really didn’t want to take up Nora’s bet, but Alex was more focused on the fact that they were talking to each other as if he wasn’t there.

“Don’t I get to bet?” Alex asked.

“No, you’re too involved,” Nora said, “So what do you say June?”

June looked at Alex and he pleaded with her silently to just once take his side. He couldn’t be the only person who thought the idea of him and Henry together was completely ridiculous.

“Fine. Come on Nora, we better leave Alex to his packing. ” The exasperation was clear in her voice as she climbed off the bed. Nora packed up her laptop as if now that she had accomplished some diabolical plan she was free to go, and seemed to scurry out of the room. June put a hand to Alex’s shoulder as she moved to leave.

“You better beat the odds Diaz,” she said, perfectly mimicking their mother’s exasperated tone.

After he heard the thud of the door shutting behind her, he sighed loudly and collapsed face down onto the mattress.

He liked a challenge. He’d beat the odds. This wasn’t a fairytale, Henry wasn’t Prince Charming and Alex certainly wasn’t some bisexual political Cinderella.

He, like the rest of his family, had beaten the odds before. He’d do so again.

Because he knew that he would damn well dive into a snake pit then ever, ever fall in love with Henry.

* * *

Alex could never sleep on long flights, not that he really could sleep well anywhere. He knew June had hoped that with the election done and Alex taking the semester off before starting NYU Law in the fall would allow Alex to calm down and maybe get some shut eye for once, Alex just accepted that maybe constant insomnia was just built into him by now. Some people could sleep, Alex could not.

But the plane ride did leave him some time to collect his thoughts and really process the events of the past week. No one had really taken any time to check in with how he was feeling about the whole thing. Everyone was just either annoyed or frustrated with this international complication. It was Alex’s fault after all, he had no one to blame but himself.

Okay, he blamed Henry a bit, even if no one else did.

But the long flight to London allowed Alex to really contemplate the implications of it all. If Henry did bear his mark, even if Alex wasn’t going to fall in love with him, it meant that they were forever connected to each other even if only through an invisible thread. Alex would have to learn to deal with it.

Alex wouldn’t admit it, but he was disappointed. Not by the fact that it was a boy, Alex had come to terms with that the previous year, but by the fact that it was Henry. When he was young and realized what the mark on his right hip was, Alex felt special. He had a soulmate and the mark to prove it. June didn’t have one. Nora didn’t have one. But he did. Alex knew he could be difficult to get close. Really no one outside of June and Nora had come close. There’d been Liam, but Alex had messed that up pretty badly. Sure, he was jovial, extroverted and loved being with people. But no one was truly able to crack through the surface. Alex kept some things hidden even from his family. But his soulmate, Alex had dreamed, would break through. They could be the one person who would relax him, who would know him completely and it wouldn’t be a burden.

Because they were meant to be.

Henry could never be that person. Alex hated him. Hated him for the snobbery and the blandness and the silver spoon that had been given to him since the day he was born. There was no way he could ever empathize with Alex, son of an immigrant and a single working mother from Texas, a brown bisexual boy could be nothing to the sparkling second heir to the Crown.. They were of different worlds. As far as Alex was concerned the soul mark was the only shared tie between them.

It felt almost like the death of a thousand dreams that Alex had felt about his life. He wouldn’t meet his soulmate in a coffee shop at the dead of night and just _know_. They wouldn’t fall in love. Sure some people got that, but not Alex.

It was all too much.

“You look sick,” Zahra said from across from him, “Now, I know you’ve flown overseas before.”

It was the first expression of concern that she’s said to him since the State Dinner. Most of what he’d heard from her had been a lot of small curses.

“I’m not sick,” he said, “I’m thinking.”

“A dangerous proposition.”

“Hey you should thank me. Who would’ve thought you’d see your hubby again so soon.”

“I would watch my mouth if I were you,” Zahra said, “I can assure you that neither me nor Shaan are happy at all about the current situation. Have you seen the headlines?”

Alex had made it a point to not read any of the headlines, which was one bummer in this whole thing. Alex loved to read gossip about himself. The fun kind of gossip. Not any of the columns buzzing about his and Henry’s fights or their inevitable love affair.

Inevitable? Yeah right, more like impossible.

“No, look, I just have to go over and make nice and it’s water under the bridge. Lord knows some other crisis will pop up to take everyone’s mind off this bullshit.”

“You better do more than play nice. I don’t think I need to impress on you that the Crown is very, very pissed right now.”

“We’re Americans, why do we care what The Crown thinks?” Alex said, knowing he should be trying to hold back on the mocking tone but not able to help himself.

“Because they are one of our closest allies,” Zahra said, “and it makes things easier for your mother. You want her to be well remembered and beloved, don’t you?”

“She already won re-election. Not like she has to worry about keeping her job,” Alex said.

“You know it’s not that simple.”

“I know, I know.”

He did know, and he felt like shit about it. He didn’t want to make his mom’s life and presidency any more difficult than it already was, if that meant that he had to suck up to Henry and the rest of the royal family than so be it. He just wasn’t going to enjoy it and it wouldn’t be so much to let him complain about it a little.

“So are they pissed because I ‘assaulted’ him or because he has my soulmark and they can’t stand the idea that the Prince’s soulmate is a boy from Texas?”

Zahra didn’t answer.

“We are not confirming that,” Zahra said, “Just focus on making up for last week’s incident, all right.”

But Alex knew it was a thing. A singular apology for his ‘unprovoked’ attack would be enough to smooth things over, but the idea that he and Henry were soulmates was something bigger. Alex was pretty sure the Royals all had soul marks and had pretty much exclusively married them since the British Royal Family was even a thing and the fact that Alex was a dude and also not British or Royalty had to be a big deal.

There was no way they would ever expect to be forever linked to one Alex Claremont-Diaz. Alex did feel somewhat smug about that.

Shaan greeted them at the private landing strip where they landed. An outsider wouldn’t even be able to tell by the way that they interacted that they were married, Alex supposed it was because they were both on official duty, though Alex had a hard time imagining what they were like off-duty. Did they have each other’s mark? he wondered. He was too afraid of both of them to ask.

The sky was gray and it always felt just on the urge of rain, but they didn’t spend long on the airstrip, rather it was a quick trip for Alex to meet Henry at the stables for a photo op and the official start of this mission of reconciliation. Alex had said sorry via teleconference the day after the State Dinner, to which Henry had accepted, though Alex was pretty sure it hadn’t been sincere.

Their meeting at the stables was curt and formal and Alex wondered for a moment how they were ever going to be able to sell to the world that they got along.

Alex would be spending the time in the guest quarters of Kensington Palace. The rooms were cold and ancient and strange. He absolutely hated it. It was truly, he thought, a gilded cage. Yes, he and Henry were certainly incompatible, Alex could never bear to live here long term.

They have a joint interview on a morning show the next morning, which Alex glides through. They had a script, and the show was carefully vetted to make sure there were no surprise questions or comments. No questions about the soul mark. The interview, Alex later mused, would truly be a disappointing one. Nothing but superficial glad-handing and nothing of substance.

But after it was over, Alex and Henry were shuffled off the set and into a dressing room to wait for the cars to be pulled around to take them to whatever was next on the agenda. They were left alone for what was probably the first time since the whole thing began.

Things were quiet and Alex was unnerved. Henry seemed to shuffle in his feet at the awkwardness. Alex debated in his head whether it was better to say something or just be silent.

Alex was terrible at shutting up, so saying something was it.

“This is all a circus, isn’t it?” he asked out loud, trying to be light.

“It really is,” Henry said, “Though, shouldn’t you be used to it?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alex asked.

“Nothing, just, you’re the President’s son, this isn’t your ‘rodeo’ now is it.”

Alex doubted Henry even knew what a rodeo was but he actually stopped himself from making a snarky comment. He was trying to get out of a sticky situation, not create a whole new one.

“No, but it’s ridiculous, I barely touched you,” he said.

Henry outright huffed at that and Alex was struck silent for a moment. The sound was petulant, sarcastic, all the things that Alex had never thought Henry could be.

“I would hardly say that grabbing my wrist is barely touching,” Henry remarked and Alex couldn’t tell whether Henry was being serious or teasing him. His whole manner was opaque.

Alex sighed, and then turned to stare at Henry.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “really.”

His apology was genuine. He really did owe Henry that.

“It’s alright,” Henry said, “I’ve let it go.”

Something about the tone in his voice made Alex suspect that Henry hadn’t had much of a choice in the matter. Their countries’ relationship was bigger than any personal gripes that existed between them and Alex mused that maybe that wasn’t fair for Henry. Alex had grabbed him and made a scene. Henry shouldn’t have to let it go. He shouldn’t have to forgive him.

But all Alex could say was “thanks”. Henry moved as if to say something else, but Shaan came in at that moment telling them the cars were here and with that the moment was gone.

* * *

Alex’s time in London soon became a blur. There was appearance after appearance, interview after interview. There was some big football match that Alex attended as guest of the Royal Family. He didn’t meet the Queen, but he did meet Phillip who only stared at him disapprovingly and shake his head. Alex hated it all. As far as he was concerned this was just a prolonged penance walk on his part. It was really too much.

He also met Bea, who as far as Alex was concerned, was the only member of the Royal Family with any amount of sense. She had smiled knowingly at him when they met, and if she bore him any ill will over the altercation with Henry she did not show it. Alex wondered why he couldn’t have been matched with her instead of Henry.

Henry for his part only seemed to interact with Alex at the events and kept to his quarters when they were back in the palace. They had not been alone since after the morning show interview. Before his arrival, Alex would have thought that a blessing, but after the weird tension in that waiting room, he wasn’t so sure.

They really should clear the air about the whole soulmates thing. If Henry’s mark was real, and going by the way everyone was acting, it was, then Alex knew that they should talk. But Henry didn’t seem interested in talking to him at all.

If Alex wasn’t able to sleep back in the states, he definitely wasn’t able to sleep in England. He spent most nights just messing around on his computer. The silence of the palace was unnerving even when compared to the silence of the White House. There were definitely more ghosts here than back home.

The night before his flight back to the states, he was sitting on the marble island in the kitchen at midnight. He’d already talked to both June and Nora, and was now messing around on a spreadsheet that Nora had prepared that was a breakdown of the statistics from the 2020 election. They weren’t useful statistics, well at least useful to him, as Alex had decided through the course of his mother’s re-election campaign that he was going to put off his political ambitions. Go to law school, become an advocate and a spearhead to expanding and re-strengthening the Voting Rights Act.

But that only held his attention for so long. He soon felt a familiar itch. He needed to move, no longer stuck to one spot. He’d felt it a lot in the first year following the first time his mom was elected. He spent it exploring the nooks and crannies of the White House, unearthing secret tokens and histories.

Guess he could do the same here. He was sure Kensington Palace had just as many secrets to uncover as the White House. He could find a few. He wasn’t going to get any sleep at this rate.

He slipped his Georgetown hoodie over his head and crept out into the hall. He wouldn’t be going that far. He was pretty sure the Royal Family wouldn’t appreciate him snooping through their hallowed halls. He traced his hands across the paneling of the walls, looking for any turned up corners or hidden lines. But the hallways were impeccable and almost sterile.

This wasn’t a place to live, Alex thought.

A part of him pitied Henry for it, but he pushed that thought down.

He went further, creeping past the security office at the end before the grand hall. The guard was watching some comedy show on his phone and didn’t notice Alex as he crossed the doorway.

Once he was clear of the security, Alex continued his exploration of the halls. He didn’t make it much further before he heard the sound of a piano coming from somewhere. The melody was haunting and a bit…sad? Alex followed it, almost unconsciously. It didn’t take him long to come to a door just slightly ajar.

The music was clear now, though Alex couldn’t name the piece. Classical music had never really held his interest. He wondered if it was Bea, he vaguely remembered having a conversation with her about music when he first arrived.

He peered in through the crack in the door, careful to not make a sound and disrupt the music.

It wasn’t Bea at the piano but Henry. A Henry that Alex had never seen before.

Alex slid in through the door and crept closer in order to get a better look. He made sure that he stayed out of Henry’s periphery vision. There was a magical quality to the moment and Alex didn’t want to break it.

He still didn’t like Henry generally, but this version at the piano in the middle of the night intrigued him. From his vantage point, Alex’s gaze was drawn to Henry’s hand floating over the keys. They were soft and graceful and beautiful. An odd word for it, but Alex could think of no other words to describe them.

He was so transfixed by Henry’s hands that he took an unwitting step forward and his foot slid just bit out of his slipper. Alex was able to catch himself so he didn’t fall, but he let out a slight sound, that came out almost as a whistle. The music stopped, and when Alex regained his sense of balance he saw Henry turned toward him on the piano bench staring at him.

“Oh sorry,” Alex said, “I didn’t mean…”

He didn’t finish, but Henry didn’t say anything.

“Did I wake you?” Henry asked, “I didn’t think you would be able to hear me from your room.”

“Oh no,” Alex said, “I was up already and I was just…”

“Wandering around the palace like a thief?” Henry commented, “I am pretty sure that that is not allowed.”

Henry’s tone was not serious, and Alex felt himself relax a bit. He hadn’t just set off another international incident.

“Do you do this often?”

“Do what?” Henry asked.

“Play sonatas at midnight,” Alex said, “I figure a pampered prince like yourself needs his beauty rest.”

“Sometimes,” Henry said, “but I would guess my not sleeping is the same reason why America’s favorite son is also wandering around English palaces at night.”

Alex knew he could blame his lack of sleep on the time difference, but he’s already been here two days, and it wasn’t like Alex slept enough for a trans-Atlantic flight to mess with it. And he didn’t know how he knew this, but Alex was pretty sure that Henry would see through any excuse that he told.

“So what keeps a Prince up at night?” Alex asked again.

Henry sighed.

“Lots of things, none of which I care to tell you.”

“That’s fair,” Alex said, “It’s not like we’re friends.”

“We’re not, indeed,” Henry agreed.

They paused, neither moving nor speaking. The taps on the long windows outside the room announced the arrival of rain, but neither took notice of it.

It was Henry who made the first move, which surprised Alex a bit. He wasn’t used to being the one at a loss for words, and Henry was always the more reserved one or that was what Alex thought.

“Do you really have it?”

Henry’s voice was quiet, almost a whisper but it was clear.

“Do I have what?” Alex asked, playing dumb.

“You know, the soul mark,” Henry said.

Alex thought he would deny it, but he figured he’d made too much of a scene at the state dinner for that to be in question.

“What do you think?” Alex asked.

“I don’t know, but if you have it, I should think I should see it,” Henry said, “You, after all, saw mine.”

Alex gave a wry smile.

“That’s fair,” Alex said. He pulled up the gray shirt just a few inches and down on the gray, flannel pajama pants.

Henry leaned in to get a closer look. He coughed after a second.

“I see,” Henry said.

“So I guess it’s confirmed,” Alex said.

“It is.”

Alex scratched the back of his head and stared for a moment at the rain pattering against the window.

“You disappointed?” Alex meant it to be glib, a tease more than anything. He wanted to come off as disaffected, as if the fact that Henry was his soulmate didn’t bother him.

Henry answered though with a nod, and Alex felt a slight ping. He shouldn’t care that Henry wasn’t happy either about the connection, but it did sting.

“Aren’t you?” Henry asked finally.

“Yeah,” Alex said, “But if it makes you feel better, at least almost 800,000 people don’t end up with their soul mate, so we should be fine.”

“Yes, but one hundred percent of Royals do,” Henry said, “for generations actually.”

“I see,” Alex said, “and I take it a biracial American boy doesn’t really make the cut for you people.”

Henry looked as if he was about to protest but he stopped himself.

“Yeah, you could say that. The history has been pretty heteronormative,” Henry said.

“I mean like I said, a lot of people don’t end up with their ‘soul mate’,” Alex said, trying to be comforting but failing, “I am pretty sure us having a soul mark doesn’t make you gay or anything.”

“Of course it doesn’t,” Henry said, “but I am either way.”

Alex stopped.

“Wait?” Alex said, “You’re gay?”

“As a bloody maypole in May,” Henry said, a wry smile crossed his face.

“Oh shit,” Alex said, “but you’re photographed with girls all this time.”

“When one is a Prince of England,” Henry said, “certain appearances are necessary.”

Henry laughed, and the laugh was bitter and sounded all wrong coming from Henry’s mouth. There’s pain there that Alex can see clear as day. Maybe it had always been there and Alex had just been too stuck up his own ass to see it. But the look was enough that any last bit of resentment that lived inside him against Henry seemed to evaporate away.

He didn’t hate this person. He didn’t know this person. But he wanted to.

No, Alex thought, better for his self esteem if he thought that this was new.

“Yeah, well,” Alex said, “can’t controle fate. You may be gay, and I am bi, but I can tell you right now, we ain’t going to fall in love sweetheart.”

“Of course not,” Henry said.

“But,” Alex said, “maybe if we get over the disappointment, someday, we will just be really good friends. Like soulbros.”

Henry grimaced.

“Please don’t ever say that to me again,” Henry said.

Alex laughed and soon Henry joined him.

And it felt to Alex like something was just beginning.

* * *

Henry did not see Alex off the next morning. They had one final ‘debriefing’. There would be one function stateside in a couple of months to seal the deal that the unfortunate events were indeed no big deal. It was also unspoken that under no circumstances would either The Crown or The White House confirm that Henry and Alex were indeed soulmarked for each other.

Alex and Henry did in fact exchange private numbers and emails. Alex had meant it when he said they should be friends. There were layers to Henry that sparked Alex’s interest in a way that it hadn’t been since his mother’s re-election. It wasn’t any sort of romantic or sexual interest, he told himself. Just that Henry was a challenge.

And Alex loved a challenge.

June was the first one to greet him when he got home, and she fidgeted over him for hours. Asking how it went, what were they going to do?

“I think we’re just going to ignore it,” Alex told her.

“Ignore it?” June asked, “Can you do that.”

“Sure,” Alex said, “it isn’t like we’ll die if we aren’t together.”

June looked at him skeptically.

“Don’t worry,” Alex reassured her, “we’re gonna win.”

They didn’t entirely jump into being friends. In fact it was three weeks before Alex worked up enough to send the first text to Henry. He sent a selfie of him at an Irish Pub during some sort of premier league soccer match, making a quip about how US football was better than whatever soccer was.

Henry hadn’t been amused and he texted back something sarcastic and bemusing.

None of the text conversations were all that deep, and soon there were lengthy pauses between “chats” to the point where the only days that Alex remembered about Henry was when he happened to get a glance of the mark on his hip in the mirror.

Most of it was that Alex had to prepare for his move to New York and the start of law school. There were suggested readings and more importantly, he needed a place to live.

“A gift from Zahra,” June said, she threw a binder on the bed where Alex was reading through some book on constitutional law.

“What’s that?” Alex asked.

“Listings,” June said, “of possible apartments in New York. You sure you don’t want me to live with you?”

“Come on, June,” Alex said, “you have your speech writing job. I can take care of myself.”

“It’s just, you’ve never lived alone before,” she said.

“I’m a big boy, and you can’t look after me forever,” he said, “besides I won’t be alone. Cash is going with me.”

“Your secret service detail doesn’t count,” June said.

June shot him a look that told him that she wasn’t convinced, but she dropped the subject. She did comment that there was another photo of Henry with some British model. Alex shrugged. It didn’t bother him. It shouldn’t bother him.

But it did, though Alex knew it wasn’t for the reasons it had before. It sucked, Alex thought to himself, that Henry had to put up a constant act. There had been an upswing in Henry’s ‘dating life’ since Alex’s visit and he wondered if it had to do with him.

He was too afraid to ask Henry about it though. That felt like an in-person conversation. Not that Alex knew when they would next be in the same space. Henry was the one open-ended question in Alex’s life and he wasn’t completely on solid terms with the situation.

So Alex pushed that to be dealt with at a later date. It was arranged for Alex to go to New York to check out apartments. Zahra would go with him as a sort of overseer, even though Alex was a legal adult. He was using a lot of the money from his family’s trust that had originally been set aside for his bachelor’s degree but which hadn’t been used since Alex lived at the Residence during his time at Georgetown.

Alex enjoyed New York. He walked through the streets outside his hotel, trying to get a feel for the place that would most likely be his main home for the next three years. He felt excited. The world was new, and Alex, striding through the streets in The Village, was even more assured of this future. This new dream he had found for himself.

He zigzagged through the streets, not to avoid paparazzi or attention, but because he liked just meandering. Seeking out all the little corners of the city, on the lookout for the things that other people didn’t seem to see. Or notice things that other people didn’t notice.

And that was how Alex,on that fine summer day in Greenwich Village, thought he spotted a familiar face outside an independent queer bookstore.

It was one of Henry’s PPOs in plain clothes. Alex knew it. As the son of two high level politicians, Alex was taught how to learn new people and so Alex never forgot a face. He looked back at Cash who was keeping the standard distance behind him and signalled that he was going to duck in the store. Cash nodded his assent and Alex quickly jogged across the street and into the bookstore.

There was no one in it, just the shop girl, dressed in all black with hot pink streaks running through her dark hair. The store was small, but the bookshelves were tall and Alex thought to himself that it wouldn’t be hard to get lost in here.

He pulled down the bill of his baseball cap before removing the sunglasses that he’d worn to obscure his face. The hairs on his arms were raised, as if the air was brimming with static electricity. Henry was here. He knew—no—he felt it.

Henry turned out to be in the back corner. It was the dead of a particularly hot summer, but even with the heat he was wearing a deep purple hoodie and fake glasses. It was a good disguise, Alex thought, and he wondered if the fact that they shared a soulmark was the reason that Alex had been able to recognize him. There was some invisible force that drew them to each other. Or at the very least drew Alex to him.

Just like that night at the piano, Alex was mesmerized by watching Henry thumb through the pages of a book. Alex bent over trying to see if he could discern what exactly Henry was reading. Some sort of history book he thought.

“Can I help you?” Alex turned from Henry to stare at the shop girl who had come up behind him. Her arms were crossed.

“Umm, I’m just browsing,” Alex said and he wondered whether she recognized him. Probably she did, but just didn’t care. He was definitely not her type.

“We would appreciate it if you wouldn’t gawk at our other patrons,” she said.

Alex wouldn’t say he’d been gawking at Henry, just observing.

“Oh, I wasn’t,” Alex said, and he tried to casually lean against the bookshelf but instead his hand hit a wheeled cart which went rolling the minute he put pressure on it. Alex could see the whole thing as it happened and for one horrific moment as Alex tumbled to the ground, he thought that the cart was going to hit Henry but it veered to the left just before it reached him. Alex looked away as Henry looked towards him.

“Alex?”

Alex turned and tried his best to act like he hadn’t just spent the last fifteen minutes staring at Henry dumbfounded.

“Um, hey Henry,” Alex said all nonchalant and then inwardly berated himself. He wasn’t quite sure it was okay for him to just call Henry ‘Henry,’ but he was also disguised and Alex didn’t want to call any more attention to them than he already had. He didn’t think Henry wanted that either.

Henry did raise his hand and Alex turned to see the PPO at the entrance who’d obviously come in to check on the commotion. He nodded at Henry’s signal that everything was alright.

“What are you doing here?”

Alex gave a shrug as the shop girl passed him to collect the runaway book cart.

“Shopping, I ran out of summer reading material,” Alex said.

“I meant in New York, I thought law school didn’t start until August,” Henry said.

“I have stuff to do in preparation for law school,” Alex said, “and, like, this is my country. You’re a foreign monarch, questions are to be expected when you are anywhere but the palace.”

“So I should be a lone prince, locked in my tower but for the modern convenience of a smartphone,” Henry said, his tone distant and cold.

“No….sorry,” Alex said, “I just came in here for….”

Alex glanced around the stacks and at random pulled a book from the shelf, and stared at it.

“The complete works of Sappho?” Henry completed and Alex smiled sheepish. He was surprisingly not that great at lying on the spot.

“You got me, I recognized the PPO outside and I came in to see—“ Alex cut off then.

“I see,” Henry said.

“I should go,” Alex said, “I mean I actually have stuff to do, and you’re busy—“

Alex trailed off and turned to walk out the bookstore with just one small wave to Henry. He made it to the door when Henry cleared his throat. Alex turned and looked at him for a moment.

“You wouldn’t want to go for a cup of coffee, would you?” Henry asked, “There’s a delightful coffee shop just around the corner. It’s fair trade.”

He didn’t mean too, but Alex smiled.

“Well that is this biggest pile of bullshit I’ve ever heard!”

“How can it be bullshit when it is my opinion?” Henry exclaimed from the small table in the back of the coffee shop. Caps and sunglasses were on and hoodies were up, Cash sat with Henry’s PPOs a couple of tables in front.

“I mean but the Ewoks!”

“They’re classic!”

Alex shook his head in disbelief.

“Look, it is a universally recognized fact that Empire Strikes Back is the best one. Return of the Jedi was cute, but you just can’t compare it with the drama of Empire.”

Henry scoffed.

“Well, I actually think that Return of the Jedi is the perfect encapsulation of everything that Star Wars is about. And I happen to like happy endings,” Henry defended.

Alex sighed.

“You’re really stubborn, aren’t you?” Alex sipped his coffee (one sugar and cinnamon).

“Aren’t you?” Henry asked.

Alex laughed, genuinely.

“So have things calmed down over there?” Alex asked, “Am I clear, will I be allowed back in the country any time soon?”

“I don’t know,” Henry said, “the apology was officially accepted. Of course, there are other considerations.”

“You mean the mark?” Alex asked.

“Yes, I mean it is quite the predicament,” Henry said, “I would only be the second person in the history of the British monarchy to not marry their soulmate.”

“Really? Who was the first?” Alex asked.

“My mother, actually,” Henry said, his mouth turned down, his expression turning suddenly solemn. “My father didn’t have a mark, but my mother married him anyway. It was a huge scandal at the time. I can tell you everyone was relieved when all three of us had one.”

Alex found this all to be a little unbelievable.

“Of course, now they may be reconsidering things in my case,” Henry, said.

Alex sighed.

“I’d apologize, but it’s not like I had a choice in the matter,” Alex said.

“I actually—,” Henry paused for a moment, “I actually came out to them right after the state dinner. Phillip had been going on that it was impossible that the person soulmarked with me could be a man. So I said, that I was gay and maybe that was why. I think his head almost exploded.”

“I think I would have liked to see that,” Alex said, he could picture Henry’s brother, and he smirked thinking just how much Alex having Henry’s mark was killing him. It probably didn’t make things that great for Henry though.

“Yes.”

“So that explains the photographs lately,” Alex remarked, thinking of last week’s edition of People where Henry had been spotted with a redhead.

Henry looked a little sick.

“I hate it,” Henry said, “I don’t see the point, it doesn’t change anything. It’s all for appearances. To maintain the reputation of The Crown.”

The sarcasm in his voice is barely concealed and Alex could see him biting at it and he decided it was probably a good idea to change the subject.

“So how is it exactly, that you knew about that bookstore and this coffee shop?” Alex said, “I take it this is not the first time you’ve been here.”

“No, I’ve actually been here a couple of times actually,” Henry said, “I am helping my friend Pez open a shelter for at risk LGBTQ youth in Brooklyn, and I like to come by here whenever I am in the area. It’s the history of the place, you know.”

Alex had gleaned through hints in their text conversations and what-not that queer history was of a particular interest to Henry. Maybe Alex thought, with a role and title so entrenched in the past, that Henry was seeking himself in it. As a way to belong. A pang tugged at Alex. He’d never had that particular issue. He was always firm on who he was and where he came from, but staring at Henry, he wondered whether it was possible that there could be more.

“I actually did something rather foolish earlier in the year, and bought a brownstone just a couple of blocks down from here.”

Alex roused from his thoughts and just stared at Henry in shock.

“You what?”

“I bought a brownstone.”

“And your grandmother and brother allowed that? I would think that that sort of thing would be a huge no-no, if you know what I mean.”

Henry smirked, his eyes lit up in a way that flattered his already handsome face. There was a heat on Alex’s hip at the thought. Alex gulped.

“There was nothing they could do about it, I used the money that I inherited from my father. It’s more than what I need, really. If I can go through the rest of my life without touching Royal money, I would be happy. That money, it’s rather---”

“Unsavory. I mean that’s the British Empire for you,” Alex said, not really believing that a Prince of England wouldn’t use the money of well, England.

“Tainted,” Henry said, “I know there’s nothing really I can do, but if I can disengage in whatever way I can, I may, I don’t know, feel a bit better about myself. I want to make good. So I’ll use my position, but the money, that’s another story.”

Henry looked proud and Alex couldn’t tell whether he had just absorbed some of Henry’s emotions, but he felt proud too. Who was this person?

“The brownstone was a rather foolish purchase, though,” Henry said, “But I just wanted a space that’s mine. I don’t know, maybe I am wasting it, maybe it would be better to give it to someone else.”

“It’s a brownstone in the Village,” Alex said, “Anyone who could afford it isn’t really in need of any assistance.”

“You’re probably right,” Henry said, and he stared into his cup of tea for a moment before suddenly looking back up at Alex.

“You’re looking for a place right?” Henry asked.

“Yeah,” Alex said, not wanting to be reminded. Nothing had jumped out at him, and he was somewhat self conscious about the idea of living alone. Not that he wanted to seek some strange roommate. Alex figured he was a difficult person to live with given his odd hours and chaotic energy, but also he didn’t want to subject some poor, unsuspecting sap to the grilling and interview process and the non-disclosure agreements. “It’s a freaking laugh though. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I really need to find a place before I go back to DC by the end of the week, but that’s not looking good.”

Henry licked his lips, looking as if he was pondering something.

“You could live in the brownstone. It’s not too far from the university.”

Alex stared at him.

“You can’t be serious,” Alex said, “I wouldn’t want to owe you, and is that even possible.”

“I don’t know,” Henry said, “It is technically mine, but my security team has already laid out and vetted the place, and I would only ask that you maybe cover a portion of the utilities and taxes. I don’t really need a profit. Oh, and put up with me for the time that I am here.”

There was no reason why Alex had to take Henry up on his offer. He should just pick a place from the ones he’d already seen. But ever since his trip to London, since his changed opinion about Henry, he’d been—longing? No, that wasn’t right—itching to explore what their connection meant. What Henry was to him now. Maybe living together even if only very rarely, could be a way to elucidate the way for him forward.

“I think I could do that,” Alex said, “I mean obviously, I’d have to clear it with my mom. But, yeah. I think that would work fine.

* * *

The amount of logistical and diplomatic hurdles that Alex and Henry had to jump through secure Alex moving into the brownstone were both more and less than what they expected. On the White House’s part there was concern as to the appearance of the First Son being the Prince of England’s tenant. But that was solved through the very fact that it was not well known by anyone that Henry even owned the house, and if it ever got out that Alex and Henry were living together, they could always play it as a rental situation, shared costs sort of thing.

Things were a tougher sell in London as Henry had to reassure that neither Alex nor Henry would ever confirm that they were in fact soul mates or would out Henry in any way. The Royal Family was still in deep denial over the whole thing and couldn’t decide whether it was better for Alex and Henry to be seen together as friends or to keep them apart.

Alex would have told them that they had nothing to worry about. He was still pretty sure that he would never actually fall in love with Henry. Sure there were times during conversations that his heart maybe flipped a little, but that was just because conversations with Henry were fun and a little exciting. Alex never knew what he was going to get with Henry. One point he could be light and humorous, or then dark and brooding or cocky and sarcastic.

He just wanted to be friends. Friendship was safe. That was all. There were definitely no feelings.

Once it was settled and the ‘lease’ agreement was signed and approved by all parties involved, Alex moved in to the brownstone in the Village and got ready to start his new life as Alex Claremont-Diaz, current law student-future civil rights attorney prodigy.

Henry was out of town at the time, and in fact was out of town for the first four weeks after Alex had moved in. Henry had advised him that he could feel free to make himself at home, and he was free to change and add things as he wanted, provided he checked with Henry before selling or discarding anything in case it was some sort of heirloom of note.

There were only two things that Henry said he didn’t want touched. One was the grand piano in the main living room and a small oak writing desk in the extra bedroom that faced into the alley that Henry used as his writing space. Alex supposed that if he was still dead-set on hating the guy he would have thought of ways to break that rule, but he didn’t. He liked the piano for one, still remembering that night in London when he’d watched Henry play, there was something sacred there that Alex himself didn’t want touched, and as for the writing desk, Alex understood that as well. True, Alex could never keep himself contained to any one place, but he knew Henry found solace in writing. He wouldn’t want to take that away from him.

Alex didn’t change much, he liked the brownstone. Unlike the rooms at Kensington, the brownstone felt more like Henry, and Alex found it comforting. It was like he was living in Henry’s headspace for a while.

When Henry was actually in town, they actually spent a good amount of time together, and both became each other’s sounding board for the burdens that they didn’t feel they could lay on anyone else. Alex would let Henry rant about whatever was on his mind, which could range from the trivial opinions about popular children’s novels to some sort of insensitivity that some other royal had perpetuated recently. And Alex would listen, sometimes he would goad him on because he enjoyed the sound of Henry’s voice, particularly when it was brimming with passion. It betrayed the view that Alex had always had of Henry before, that of the cold and bland Henry.

But Alex was finding that Henry was so much more.

Not that he had any sort of feelings, but there were moments when the soul mark on his right hip would almost burn when Alex would gaze at Henry too long. He didn’t want to think it was anything, although the thought of falling for Henry, here in this little home in New York, didn’t seem as terrible as it did back when he’d first learned that he and Henry were connected.

He talked to June about it, the fact that the connection between him and Henry was more just in a mark or an affinity. It was…it was physical.

But Henry was really not there as often as Alex would like, which was also a thought that took some time getting used to. When Alex was there alone, he’d seem to spread out, desperately trying to fill the space, an ache. He really had never lived alone, now that he thought about it. One of his parents or June or even Nora would be nearby so it took some getting used to.

He needed to find a better way to relieve the stress and anxiety that would sometimes build up like a well inside him.

One evening during a somewhat blistering winter storm when he was struggling with a particularly difficult paper coming up and he was angered by a particularly terrible argument with a classmate, he found himself turning up the music, and just sort of moved to the beat as he stared at the outline and lists he’d posted on the wall about torts and the theory behind civil procedure. He found the rhythms calmed him and he began to relax. He closed his eyes and began to sway. e thought he probably looked a lot like Hugh Grant from that scene in Love Actually. He mouthed the words to Tina Turner’s ‘What’s Love Got to Do With It’ holding his pencil to his mouth as a pretend microphone.

He didn’t notice at first that the front door had opened and the sound of the howling storm outside. And he definitely took way too long to notice Henry standing at the entrance to the living room staring at him absolutely gobsmacked at the display going on inside. Alex didn’t notice until he executed a quick spin and just happened to open his eyes to see Henry standing there staring at him.

“What, you never see real dancing before?” Alex asked, shrugging his shoulders. If he was anyone else he probably would have felt embarrassed by the whole thing, but Alex had never really been one for shame.

“Not in my living room,” Henry said.

The song switched to Selena’s Como La Flor and Alex wagged his hips in Henry’s direction.

“Don’t knock it until you try it,” Alex joked and waved Henry over.

“I don’t think so,” Henry said, but Alex could tell that he was trying to hold back a smile.

“Come on,” Alex said, “your grandmother never has to know.”

In two steps, Alex had crossed the room to Henry and without a single thought to the contrary, he took Henry’s hand and led him back to the center of the room.

“Alex—“

“Okay,” Alex said, “show me what you’ve got.”

“I most certainly will not.”

“Come on, it’s just me,” Alex said, goading Henry to match his moves.

Henry sighed, and looked back to where he’d tossed his weekend bag and then back at Alex, and he did his best to mirror Alex’s moves. He was not entirely successful, and Alex did his best to hold back a laugh.

“No, it’s in the hips. Man you inherited a lot of things but rhythm was definitely not one of them,” Alex said.

“I could have told you that,” Henry said, and moved to turn away but Alex grabbed him and guided him back.

“I’ll show you,” Alex said, “This is on me.”

He moved Henry not even a foot away and placed his hands to Henry’s hips. He kept his eyes down to his hands as he moved with the beats. Alex grazed his teeth over his bottom lip. Something was lit inside him at their closeness. It’s been awhile since he’s been this close to another person and the fact that it was Henry added something to it. Warmth began to seep from the place on his hip and spread across the rest of his body.

Alex looked up when he heard Henry draw in a breath and when he looked into Henry’s eyes, he suddenly found himself at a loss for words. He could only think of one thing.

_I like this person._

“Ummm, hi,” Alex said and he noted that the music had stopped.

“Hello,” Henry said.

Alex wanted to say something else, break the moment or maybe move it forward. He could feel every inch of him scream to move closer, to test how far this would go. His hip was practically burning, every inch of him reacting to Henry.

_I want this person._

Henry pushed Alex away, disrupting the moment.

“I should go, it’s been a long day,” Henry said and before Alex could say anything he’d grabbed his bag and bounded upstairs, leaving Alex standing alone in the middle of the living roof, alone and bereft.

_What in the hell?_

* * *

“So what exactly are we doing here?” Henry asked, as Alex peered through the line of people in front of them.

“We are waiting for the best barbecue in the country,” Alex said.

“And we are waiting in line because?”

“It’s a part of the experience,” Alex said, “You can’t appreciate it if you don’t wait in line.”

Henry shook his head in disbelief and Alex laughed. They hadn’t talked about the dance in the living room, and though Alex had worried that there would be some awkwardness between them, it was in fact the opposite. They were closer, at least physically, so close that Alex could just naturally swing an arm around Henry’s shoulder.

And so it had been easy to ask Henry to visit Alex in Austin on a long weekend after the new year. It was an unusual destination for a Prince, but Henry had acquiesced. June had raised a knowing eyebrow when Alex told her Henry was coming but he shrugged it off.

“You’re a little off,” she said to him during their last facetime call prior to the trip.

“I’m not,” he said.

“Are you sure there is nothing going on between you and Henry?” she asked.

Alex wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t going to tell June that. Maybe this trip in Austin would enlighten things, or at the very least allow Alex to right himself up. Being back in Texas always did that, it was his home, in the air, the land, the buildings, the whole of Texas was in his blood.

He wasn’t going to think too hard about why he had desired Henry to see it. Maybe to turn him off, or…..

“I don’t think anything is worth this,” Henry said.

Alex thought it would be worth it just to see Henry eating ribs with his bare hands, barbecue sauce spread across his face. It would be an excellent form of good natured blackmail later and probably the new background for Alex’s phone (or lockscreen if their security would allow it, though that probably violated ten different non-disclosure agreements). And being here, Henry seemed relaxed, even more than when he was in New York. Like they were really in a different world, where he wasn’t royal and Alex wasn’t the first son.

Alex wondered for a moment that if they had been anyone else, just a random law student and a writer (in Alex’s mind, Henry would always be a writer). _He should be a writer._ Alex would inwardly bemoan to himself that it was too bad that being a Prince of England so often kept Henry from pursuing the things that made Henry the most _Henry_ ). If they were just a law student and a writer, maybe this whole trip would be simpler and his feelings more clear.

And that was what really had been bugging Alex over the past few weeks, ever since their little impromptu dance in the living room. Alex was-in Nora’s terms-85 percent sure that he was in love with Henry. Actually his concern wasn’t so much about the fact that Alex had feelings but why he had them. Was it because he’d grown to know Henry better in the months since the altercation. Or was it some biochemical reaction to the fact that they were technically “soulmates”.

Alex did not have the time nor the inclination to figure it out, particularly while he was on vacation. He noted Henry shifting his feet, on high alert that he might be recognized, even though his sandy locks and famous features were obscured by the baseball cap, grey hoodie and sunglasses. Alex had told him to dress as casually as he could.

Alex was just about to make a snarky quip to calm Henry when a bustle of activity came from behind them and suddenly the air was bursting into a different sort of tension. Alex and Henry stood a bit perplexed by the disruption when Alex heard a pop from a distance. He didn’t think it was gunfire but it was a close by, and soon there was no sound but people screaming and rushing through the streets.

It took only a few seconds for Alex to gather his bearings enough to grab Henry’s hand and pull him through the mass of people converging through the streets. He made a beeline for an alley. Once there and out of the crowds, Alex took stock of the situation. The hood of Henry’s sweater had been pulled down and he’d lost the sunglasses, but Alex didn’t worry too much about that. Everyone was in too much of a panic to notice that England’s second son was in their midst.

“Was that really a gun?” Henry asked once he caught his breath.

“I don’t know,” Alex said “You can’t be sure.”

Henry grimaced.

“I think we lost Cash and the PPOs?” Henry said. Alex swore when he realized that Henry was right.

The last thing they needed was for their security to launch a full scale hunt for their whereabouts. The Crown was sure to lock down Henry for years if word got out that he’d gone AWOL, even if they hadn’t meant to.

Alex pulled his phone out of his back pocket and swore. There was no service.

“I’ve got no service, do you?” Alex asked.

Henry shook his head once he’d checked his own phone.

Alex sighed.

“Well, I guess there’s nothing we can do until everything’s calmed down,” Alex said, “Once it has we can go out find a place with at least one bar of service and call as soon as we can. It’s not like it’s our fault.”

Henry was definitely not at ease.

“Now you can’t tell me that your Texas barbecue was worth this,” Henry said.

“Oh it is,” Alex said, “you’ll see.”

They stood in silence for a few minutes, as they watched people rush out at the street ahead. Sirens and the honking of emergency vehicles had filled the air.

Alex watched Henry as he watched the world around them. Despite the situation, he seemed calm, or at least calmer than what Alex would have expected him to be.

“Hey,” Alex said, “are you alright?”

Henry looked at him, a bit befuddled by the question.

“Yeah,” Henry replied, “you?”

“I’m fine,” Alex responded.

“I’m just worried that they won’t find us,” Henry said, “I don’t particularly want to face Philip or Gran about this.”

“Oh, they will,” Alex assured him, “I mean, it would reflect worse on them than it does us.”

“I know, but I just don’t want them to use this as a reason for me to give up the apartment in New York.”

Alex stopped for a moment.

“What?”

Henry looked down, his face clouded.

“They aren’t pleased that I’m sharing an apartment with you. They don’t approve,” Henry said.

“I mean, you’re hardly there,” Alex said, “and besides I’m the president’s son not some nobody.”

“That’s not what worries them,” Henry said.

“What does?” Alex asked, though he thought he knew the answer.

“I think they fear that I might be tempted to act on certain inclinations with you,” Henry said.

It is then that Alex noticed how close Henry was to him. He didn’t know who moved closer first, him or Henry, but now it was inescapable. Alex was definitely standing in an alley with Henry, Prince of Wales, standing so close that Alex could almost feel his warm breath..

“What inclinations?” Alex asked.

“You must know,” Henry said, his voice barely above a whisper, “Surely, you must know.”

And Alex knew instinctively what should have happened next. Their noses brushed together, but before Alex could follow the rhythm of it all the spell of the moment was broken by Cash’s voice yelling at them, asking if they were all right while also radioing to others that he’d found them.

Alex nodded and looked to Henry, who was only a slight shade of pink. Despite the fact that it was somewhat a relief that Cash had found them, Alex couldn’t help but wish he’d waited another moment or two.

Because now that Alex had almost kissed Henry, he knew he wasn’t going to know any peace until he finally did.

* * *

There were no incidents for three weeks following the events in Texas. The noise that had started the panic was a mixture of some kids with fireworks that spurred a rather severe car accident. It hadn’t been related to Alex and Henry being there.

Either way, Alex kept trying to find a reason to bring up the almost kiss, but he always seemed to fail. But Henry did seem to be getting closer to him. The construction and set up of the LGBT youth center was almost complete, so Henry had remained in New York for what was the longest stretch of time since Alex had moved in. Not that Alex minded.

Alex liked Henry being there, the banter over the counter at breakfast, Alex pretending to go over assigned case law while listening to Henry play sonatas or any given song from Elton John’s songbook. Sometimes Alex would find Henry at the small writing desk in the sunroom on the roof writing, and Alex would become so transfixed by Henry’s hands that he would have to go back downstairs and lay down from the desire that was overwhelming him.

But the worst of it was how they would get into long conversations. o topic seemed off the table. Alex soon fretted that he had given more of himself to Henry than he’d ever given to June or Nora. Alex wondered if Henry felt the same way. Alex thought he might. But he wasn’t sure.

Alex expected the whole thing to come to a head sooner or later. He wouldn’t be able to hold back his feelings all that much longer. Not from Henry. He expected it would come at a flashpoint. Some crisis with his mom or June, or even a fight would escalate until things were said in a fit of emotion.

The reality was that it took none of that. It came to a head one evening just before the opening of the LGBT youth center. Alex and Henry were doing nothing more than watching a live broadcast of a Knicks game. Neither of them had any such interest in the game really, but neither of them had anything particularly pressing to do. The semester had just started for Alex and so there wasn’t much due at the moment outside of required readings, and Henry had finished a day overseeing the finishing touches and staff meetings at the center.

Alex found he was watching Henry more than he was watching the game, finding the movement of Henry’s brows when he was paying particular attention to something, or the quirk of his lips when he found the events particularly amusing.

Alex wondered whether all soulmates felt like this or could read the moods of their ‘partners’ in this way or whether he and Henry were special. Maybe because they had spent so much time absolutely assured that they could not fall in love with each other that made their bond different.

Not that Alex hadn’t already thrown the notion of not falling in with Henry out the window. It was just a matter of whether Alex would tell him or not, and if so, when.

“Are you watching me?” Henry asked, and Alex felt himself turn to liquid at the sound of Henry’s voice. He hadn’t thought he had a thing for accents, but apparently he did for Henry’s accent.

“Ummmm, no,” Alex said, he straightened up and tried to look like he hadn’t been cataloguing the features of Henry’s face for the last thirty minutes.

Going by Henry’s expression, Alex was not successful.

“Okay, a little,” Alex admitted, “but only because I didn’t know you were that big of a basketball fan.”

“I’m not,” Henry said, “but it’s quite popular with kids, and I’m just trying to get to know one of our closest allies’ culture better.”

“You know it well enough,” Alex said, “even I think our cultural byproducts have oversaturated the globe, and you’re not going to meet a more patriotic person than me.”

“You always have to be the _most_ now don’t you,” Henry said.

“Yeah well, I can’t be anything other than what I am.”

Henry grew quiet, and Alex wondered whether he mistook the banter for something else. Either way, there was something underneath Henry’s words that Alex wasn’t quite sure of.

“Hey,” Alex said, he kept his voice just above a whisper, “I never asked you...”

Henry turned from the television. The game had just gone into halftime and the analysts were spouting off some sort of bullshit.

“Ask me what?”

“Were you disappointed?” Alex asked. He went on when Henry raised a quizzical brow, “That it’s me, with the mark. Were you disappointed that it was me?”

They had confessed some of their deepest fears, worries, and desires over the course of their acquaintance and time living together, but they hadn’t broached this topic since London. At least not in any sort of personal terms outside of what their respective families had made of it.

Henry didn’t answer, and for a moment Alex’s heart sank. He shouldn’t have asked. He didn’t want to know. He looked away, and tried to compose himself, to make it seem like he hadn’t just revealed something he shouldn’t. That it was a light question and that Alex didn’t care about Henry’s answer to the question.

But he cared, oh, he cared a lot. When he finally felt sure that he could fake it, at least to the point where he could manage a getaway, he turned back to Henry only to find that Henry was much closer than before. Their thighs were so close, they almost were touching. Their shoulders most certainly were and slight hum began to ring in Alex’s ears.

For a second, Henry started as if to say something, but he closed his mouth, Alex was just about to goad him to say whatever it was that was on his mind when Henry leaned in and….

Kissed him. Henry, Prince of England and his apparent soulmate kissed him.

Alex couldn’t say that he hadn’t been thinking what it would be like to kiss Henry over the past few weeks, months even, but the reality of it was more than he could ever hope for.

Henry was a good kisser, not too soft, not firm. He plied Alex’s mouth open with ease and Alex tasted Henry’s usual favorite red wine. Alex, for the moment, just focused on the feel of his lips before he realized he should probably return the action. His hands instinctively went up into Henry’s hair which triggered Henry to deepen the kiss and wrap his own arms around Alex’s waist.

The kiss felt like it lasted both forever and for no time at all. When parted, they were both short of breath. Alex rested his forehead against Henry’s and for one moment, he revelled in the perfection of it all. He’d never kissed someone that felt like a full night sky, bursting in twinkling lights and cascading auroras.

“So,” he said, figuring he should make the first move. He was hard and Alex knew he didn’t want the night to end there. No, it was all the way or nowhere, he’d determined, “shall we move upstairs.”

“I think so,” Henry’s voice was soft and Alex pulled back a bit and grabbed Henry’s wrist. And he pulled it up and pressed his lips to the small mark. The physical evidence of their bond.

Henry said nothing, but allowed Alex to pull him up and up the stairs. Alex knew that nothing would be the same again.

Alex woke up in Henry’s bed alone, the light of the morning sun shining through sheer white curtains, the light reflecting off the windows of the building next door. The previous night was hazy to Alex, but he felt sated and perfect.

He looked over to the spot where Henry should have been, but the mattress was flat and the spot cold. Henry hadn’t been there for a good long while.

Alex didn’t feel uneasy, at least, not until he went downstairs following a quick shower, and found a small note on the kitchen island.

Henry was gone, suddenly, back to London. There was no further explanation than that. Alex went for his phone, shot off a complete text before just plain calling Henry. The phone went straight to voicemail.

Something was wrong, Alex thought. There wasn’t any emergency. He checked his newsfeed and the major news and gossip sites but there was nothing that would explain Henry’s departure.

Nothing other than the fact that they’d slept together last night. It was because of Alex.

And from the highest of highs. Alex fell to the lowest of lows.

* * *

Henry never responded to the countless texts, emails, voicemails and messages that Alex sent over the course of the two weeks following their first night together. Alex had been able to get a hold of Pez, but all he could say was that Henry was fine and that no he was not able to speak to him.

Pez sounded sympathetic, but since Alex was not really being able to confide in him what was going on, he was not to be of much use. Nor were most of his friends. It was only when he’d become so sullen and withdrawn that June spontaneously drove up to New York and dragged him down back to DC that he finally told her what happened.

“You love him,” she said, once Alex recounted what felt like everything.

“I do,” Alex said, “Sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” She asked.

“You’re going to lose your bet with Nora,” he said.

June just stared at him incredulously for a moment.

“Forget about that,” she said, “It doesn’t matter. What are you going to do?”

“What can I do?” Alex asked, “He won’t talk to me. Maybe he was just toying with me. Maybe I got too clingy.”

“Oh no, we are not going to do that,” June said, “Look, I haven’t gotten to know Henry the way you have, but I am pretty sure he’s not the kind to play around. Not with you.”

“Because I’m the President’s son?” Alex asked, “That would be pretty bad for international relations.”

“No, because you’re his match, Alex,” June said, hitting him with her pillow.

“I’m his soulmate,” he said, pressing a hand to the mark in his waist. It had felt incredibly cold since the separation from Henry, “That’s a difference.”

“No, I meant his match,” June said, “This has nothing to do with your stupid soulmark. You guys just fit. I know. If I found someone who made me feel the way Henry makes you feel, or makes me smile the way he induces that stupid, smarmy grin as yours I’d——Well, I don’t know, I’d run off and elope if I could.”

“But….”

“Talk to mom about it,” June said, “I’d say talk to Dad, but he’s in California this week.”

Alex thought it funny to consult his mother on this, but June was probably right. So, that was how he found himself skulking just outside of the door of his mother’s personal living room, where she seemed to be piecing through some documents. She was not in the Oval Office or situation room, so Alex could tell it was “off the clock” work, as she liked to put it.

“What is it you need from me, baby,” his mother said, her Texas accent stringing out the vowels in the affecting way she did when she got tired of waiting for Alex to just get on with it. He trudged into the room and shot her a pouty face. One that he probably hadn’t given her since he was a young kid, whining for some petty thing or another.

He slid into the seat across from where his mother sat and let out a long drawn out sigh.

“Spit it out,” Ellen said after Alex let out a second sigh, “I don’t have all day.”

Alex looked at her for a moment and debated aborting the idea of talking with his mother completely. She wasn’t always the best at feelings, particularly when it came to feelings with regard to interpersonal relationships. He’d been given the please-feel-safe-to-express-yourself and I-love-you-no-matter-what talks many times, sometimes accompanied by elaborate slide shows and printed outlines.

“Okay,” Alex said, more to himself than to his mother, “Dad told me about a year ago that you’re the love of his life. Do you—do you feel the same way?”

Ellen seemed to be taken aback for a moment.

“This is the conversation you want to have?” Ellen asked, “I didn’t know the divorce still bothered you.”

“It’s not about your divorce,” Alex said, “Can you just answer the question.”

She looked a bit confused but pondered for a moment.

“I don’t know if I would use terms like that, but your father was _a_ love of my life. I mean I did love him, a part of me will always love him. I love him as a senator, I love him as a father. I don’t love him as a partner, but I appreciate and respect him for who he is,” Ellen said.

Alex nodded.

“Do you—do you think you loved him because you shared a soulmark?” Alex asked.

Ellen’s eyes twitched and Alex knew that she had figured out what Alex really wanted to know.

“You know, I read a few months back a couple of scientists posit that the reason humans evolved to have soulmarks was to better to insure offspring, make sure that our ancestors weren’t sticking to the gene pool and to foster us to stick together and take care of each other. We’re all connected, anyone could be right for anybody,” she said. “You know the number of people who have them seems to be decreasing with each generation and they are hypothesizing that it’s because we don’t really need them anymore.”

“That isn’t an answer to my question,” Alex stated, flatly. In politics, his mother was so direct, never beating around the issue, but here he almost couldn’t follow what she was saying.

“I know. I don’t know to be honest, I do know that I fell for your father before I knew we shared a mark. When we discovered that it was there, it seemed like just another confirmation of how right we were together. But that might’ve been a confirmation bias. It hadn’t mattered to me whether he had it or not. I was in love,” she said.

She continued when Alex didn’t have a comeback to that.

“I think they can bring people together who maybe wouldn’t have thought to be together. It makes people give others a second glance. Sometimes it works out, and sometimes it doesn’t. The truth is as time went on the mark was such an afterthought. The mark is not what binds me to your father, you and June do. And even separate from that, your father and I would always be connected by the time we had together. That is time and years I can’t replace, even if I wanted to.”

Alex nodded.

“What I’m saying, the mark may be starting point, but it isn’t why you’ll love someone or not love someone. Love is active, purposeful. It doesn’t just happen to you. You have to work at it, tend it,” Ellen said, “Otherwise it will just wilt and fade from neglect. Fate, if it exists, only takes you so far, it’s up to you to finish the journey.”

Alex couldn’t really say anything else, but he knew she was right. Which he shouldn’t have questioned, she was always right.

“So I take it that Henry really is your soulmate then,” Ellen said.

Alex was taken aback. The implications of his mother’s inquiry hitting him with their absurdity.

“What?”

“He has your mark,” Ellen said.

“Wait, you thought I started an altercation with Henry at the state dinner over nothing but an allegation?” Alex asked, actually a bit offended that his mother would consider such a thing.

“Of course not, though I admitted it was a possibility,” Ellen said, “You could’ve made a mistake.”

“I don’t make mistakes.”

“Well, I know that isn’t true.”

Alex laughed.

“Yes, he has my mark.”

“And you love him,” Ellen said, plainly.

Alex looked at her.

“Would it be the worst thing if I did?” he asked, “I know it’s complicated.”

Ellen shook her head.

“Everything about my life, except for loving you and June, is complicated. But no, it wouldn’t be the worst thing. It would just take some special accommodations. And you may have to deal with some things that may be unique to both your situations.”

“It might not matter,” Alex said, “I don’t know if the feeling’s are mutual.”

She reached over and covered his hand with hers.

“Well, I’m here for you no matter what it is. Remember, I am your mother first, president second,” she said, “or at least I try to be.”

Alex nodded.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

* * *

“Are we really doing this?”

Alex didn’t know why he’d brought Nora along. Actually he didn’t know why he’d brought anyone along. When he’d tried to think of a way to get Henry to speak to him, he’d thought it would be better if he did it alone. Crashing a royal function was probably more effective with only one person.

“Yeah, we’re doing this,” June said as she gazed out the car window. They were all jetlagged and frazzled, but Alex was more nervous and worried.

There was no guarantee that this would work.

“So, how do we get into Princess Catherine’s birthday party without causing a fuss that could ruffle the relations between the world’s two ‘greatest’ nations,?” Nora said.

“We don’t have to actually crash the party,” Alex said, “I just need to get Henry alone.”

“And how are you going to do that from out here?” June asked.

“I asked Zara to handle it,” Alex said.

Nora and June balked at him.

“Figures,” June said, “Guys always need us to do their dirty work.”

“That’s not fair,” Alex said, “I mean I’d have to go through Shaan, and they’re married, how was I supposed to do this and not involve her.”

“I don’t know, serenade him at a window at night?”

“Shout at him from outside in the rain with a boombox, like some brown John Cusack,” June retorted.

Alex shook his head. He wasn’t in the frame of mind to take much teasing, he was just so anxious to get the whole thing over with. He just wanted---no---needed, to know how Henry felt. So he could move on and——

If Henry rejected him, Alex didn’t quite know what he would do. Probably die alone and unhappy and pitiful.

There was a tap on the window and Alex looked to see Shaan peering in. It was raining outside, and Shaan offered him a deep navy umbrella when he climbed out of the car.

“Welcome to Kensington Palace, Mr. Diaz,” Shaan said.

“Cut it out Shaan,” Alex said, “You know why I’m here.”

“I’m very aware of why you’re here,” Shaan replied, his voice and smooth betraying nothing, “and you should know that what you want is not possible.”

“I just need to speak with him,” Alex said.

“I believe you have his personal number.”

“Face to face,” Alex said again, “Look it won’t take long. I just need five minutes.”

“I can’t do that Mr. Diaz,” Shaan said, and Alex swore he could find some spark of empathy, “You do not have an invitation.”

“Look, I traveled a thousand miles to be here, I need to see Henry,” Alex said, “and you can’t stop me.”

Shaan remained absolute and steadfast.

“Look, I’m trying to be within the rules, but if I can’t see him for even a minute,” Alex said, “I will raise holy hell until everyone in that stinking palace has no choice but answer to me.”

“Is that a threat?” Shaan asked.

“No, it’s a promise,” Alex said, “Please. I need to see him. He has to see me.”

It was here that Shaan sighed, there was definitely something that he knew that would work in Alex’s favor.

“Fine,” Shaan said, “I will go and see if he’ll see you, but if he says no, there is nothing that I can do.”

“Don’t tell him that it’s me,” Alex said, “Just say someone needs to meet with him urgently re: the centers.”

“Are you telling me to lie to a member of the Royal Family?” Shaan asked.

“It’s for a good cause Shaan. Please,” Alex said again.

Shaan shook his head, years of worry and stress of his charge were for a moment written on his face.

“Wait here,” Shaan said, “If he’ll see you, I will come get you and escort you to a suitable location.”

Shaan walked off then and Alex just stood there by the car. More waiting. It was all he seemed to be doing lately. Waiting, waiting, and waiting. He really just needed Henry to come and put him out of his misery.

“Do you think it’ll work? Do you think he’ll see you?” Nora asked from inside the car, reminding Alex suddenly that June and Nora had come with him.

“I don’t know, I hope so,” Alex replied.

“And if he doesn’t?” June asked.

“Then it’s over,” Alex said, and the words hurt even to say.

Alex didn’t have to wait long for Shaan to come back out and signal for him to follow. He was taken to a small drawing room, far removed from guests at the princess’ party. Alex looked at Shaan.

“Is he coming?”

Shaan nodded, “Just wait here, and I swear if any one of Her Majesty’s esteemed guests hears you, there will be consequences that not even your mother can shield you from.”

Alex had never seen Shaan so threatening and overbearing, and in a moment of slight levity, Alex realized that he was sort of into it. He could see what Zahra saw in him.

“Right,” Alex said and gave Shaan a mock salute to which he rolled his eyes.

Alex probably should have taken the time prior to Henry coming in to compose himself and figure out what he was going to say. But mostly he just fidgeted, whistling a soft tune, and so the frenetic energy inside him was just building up. He wondered if Nora and June were still in the car or whether Shaan had taken them somewhere else. He wondered how old the vase on the small table by the window was. He wondered what Henry would be wearing. Probably a suit, and his hair would be perfect, and lips soft. Alex could see an image of them tumbling onto the white loveseat that probably has pieces that go back two generations and making an absolute mess of it.

He needed to stop this, he was supposed to be angry. He’d moved to listing the last fifteen Texas senators as he sometimes did when things got too much, when Henry walked in.

“I don’t have time for this, Gran will be livid when——” Henry was saying to what had to be Shaan, but he stopped his tread into the room when he saw Alex standing there completely awestruck.

Henry was perfect.

“You have five minutes,” Shaan said interrupting the scene before he closed the door.

“Alex.”

Alex had been on a plane for roughly seven hours and he’d imagined the scene a hundred times over the course of the trip, but now that it was actually happening he was completely and utterly dumbfounded.

“What are you doing here?” Henry asked, “You shouldn’t be here.”

The ‘shouldn’t’ sparked something in Alex. The bout of anger that had been coming up and down ever since Alex had woken up in Henry’s bed came back with a vengeance. Surely, Henry had to know why Alex was here. He wasn’t an idiot, at least Alex hadn’t thought him one, even when he’d hated him.

“Maybe I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t just left me in your bed in New York,” Alex said, the bitterness not all hidden from his voice, “ _or_ at the very least pick up the phone or answer a text.”

Now it was Henry’s turn to be uncomfortable, though Alex only took small comfort in that fact. He didn’t actually come here to make Henry feel bad. He would just want Henry to tell him to his face that he didn’t like him.

Henry looked away for a moment.

“Just talk to me,” Alex said, “I swear, just do it to my face. Tell me to my face that—“

“What do you want me to say?” Henry asked, “I don’t know what you’re seeking to gain from all this.”

“Just tell me that it meant nothing, that you were toying with me. That-that it was just me.”

“What was just you?” Henry asked.

Alex should have thought better of it. It was Henry that owed the explanation not him. But Alex had never been good at holding back, not in this and not to Henry. And he was tired, he was tired of the worry, the sadness, the coldness in his heart and his hip.

“That it was just me,” Alex said, his voice suddenly hoarse, “Just me who loves you.”

The air seemed to thin at the confession, because Alex suddenly felt light-headed.

“Alex you can’t be serious,” Henry said, “You can’t seriously love me.”

“Of course I can,” Alex said, “I mean what did you think was going to happen. You were everywhere in that apartment and we got on. And you have my mark!”

Alex admitted he’d gotten a bit too excited at that last part, but he felt like he was treading water, trying to get the conversation to where it needed to go.

Henry stilled, and Alex felt it as he always felt everything Henry did.

“It’s because of that, that you can’t,” Henry said, “You don’t know.”

Alex shook his head.

“What do you mean?” he asked. “Just say it. Tell me so I can understand. I love you, and I thought that you loved me.”

Henry didn’t respond and Alex turned trying to bring the heat down on his cheeks. He wasn’t going to be the one in a mess here.

“You never answered my question,” Alex said, suddenly once his bearings had returned.

“What question?” Henry asked.

“Whether you were disappointed that it was me,” Alex said, “I asked you, I asked you that the night we——But I guess you were. Maybe sleeping with me was a way to work through it, and you failed and so you left.”

“I didn’t want it to be you,” Henry said, “It wasn’t disappointment, it was…”

Alex was definitely confused, and his confusion must have been written on his face because Henry launched into an explanation that Alex realized he’d must have held in for months, maybe even since the state dinner when everything had come to light.

“I’ve always hated it, the mark. It was just another signifier that nothing in my life was ever mine, even the person I was supposed to be with. I could have taken it, born it even, had it been anyone else, man or woman. But the fact that it was you. You were….”

Henry struggled to catch his breath, and the sight soothed Alex’s anger. Now there was just an express sadness.

“You were supposed to be mine. What I felt for you, it was supposed to be me, and not destiny or fate. I wanted just one thing I could control.”

“What you _felt_ for me?” Alex asked.

“I’ve loved you,” Henry said, “I’ve always loved you ever since-”

“Since when?” Alex asked, “Since your brother’s wedding? Since the New Year’s?”

“Since I first saw you. In Rio.”

Alex didn’t understand at first, but when he did, he took a few involuntary step backwards as if he was pushed from behind.

“That long?” Alex asked, he couldn’t quite believe it. It didn’t make sense.

“Yes, I saw you. You were standing with June, and you were...” Henry said, “You were happy, and unguarded and I thought that it would be nice if I could be like that, if maybe you could spare some for that for the rest of us . It stayed with me. I followed you throughout both of your mother’s campaigns. And I thought maybe you would understand how it felt. I imagined myself like my own mother. Throwing caution to the wind and pursuing what I wanted as opposed to what was expected.”

The conversation made Alex feel big and powerful. He’d never seen himself like that, as someone to be admired, envied even.

“I thought you hated me,” Alex said, “You snubbed me back then.”

“And that’s why you hated me?” Henry asked.

“I never hated you,” Alex said and quickly amended the statement, “I mean, not really. I just thought you were stuck up and pretentious, that you thought you were better than me.”

Henry’s smile was sad.

“It was quite the opposite actually,” Henry said.

Alex looked at him.

“So, why run?” Alex asked.

“Because,” Henry said, “I couldn’t bear the thought that you were only with me because of this stupid mark. It wasn’t fair to you, to be stuck with someone like me and to a life like mine. Yes, you’re the president’s son, but you won’t be forever. I, on the other hand. Being Royal is a lifetime bit.”

“I don’t care about that,” Alex said.

“I do,” Henry said, “It isn’t fair.”

“And I am not stuck to you,” Alex said, referencing an earlier statement, “I guess I was sort of the opposite of you. I loved having the mark. As exuberant as I am, there have been very few people who understand me, who won’t get fed up with what I am in life. I thought the mark meant that there would be at least one person who was guaranteed to know me.”

Henry looked at Alex.

“I do,” he said, and Alex nodded.

“But that doesn’t mean I love you because of it,” Alex said, “On my way over here, I made a list of everything I liked, no, loved about you and to be honest your being my soulmate didn’t make the list.”

He stepped closer to Henry, and his heart thudded in his chest.

“So why did you run?” Alex asked.

“I thought it would be better for you,” Henry said, “if I just disappeared. I was mad at myself for taking advantage. I couldn’t have more.”

“It was quite the opposite,” Alex said.

“I know.”

They were right upon each other and Alex worried that Henry would back down, but he didn’t. In a move that was almost automatic, Alex reached up and brushed the hair out of Henry’s eyes.

“Love is a choice,” Alex said, “regardless of the soulmark, love is a choice. And I choose you.”

Henry started to protest but Alex stopped him.

“It’s not fate, at least not all of it. Why does it matter that we share a mark?” Alex said, “We can’t know the future. But for right now, and I think for a long time, I don’t see a future without you.”

Henry didn’t say a word but his blue eyes met Alex’s and for the first time in almost a month, Alex knew that things would be fine. They would be difficult, falling in love with an actual prince wasn’t an easy thing. But they would make it. They had to.

“Can I kiss you?” Alex asked, “or do we need to talk more?”

“Kissing would be just fine,” Henry said and he smiled, an unbridled smile that Alex didn’t know Henry could do. He felt the world become bright again.

Alex kissed Henry, purposely, pointedly, tenderly. They remained like that for as long as they could bear, and only parted when Shaan came back in to retrieve Henry to go back to the party.

“I’ll wait,” Alex said, their mouths and lips still only inches a part, “We can finish this later.”

Henry shook his head, removed his arms from Alex’s waist and took his hand.

“No, I think you need to meet my mum,” Henry said, and laughed as he pulled Alex along after them. Their laughter echoed throughout the palace halls.

And Henry’s smile and laughter and hand and the warmth burning Alex’s chest and hip, it felt like forever.

* * *

The sky above New York City was clear and bright. There was an unusual number of stars that could be spotted from one of the many roofs. Alex stood at the door of the sun room to the rooftop balcony of the brownstone where it had all happened. June had helped him string up a bunch of lights and across the balcony and Nora had gifted them a bunch of suitable plants that in her words “Not even Alex would be able to kill,” to give the rooftop some life and warmth.

Not that Alex noticed that now. He was just staring at Henry sitting on a bench reading a book, like a real life Hugh Grant from _Notting Hill_ , his right arm stretched out on the top of the bench while perusing the book with his other.

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to join me?” He asked not even looking up from the book.

Alex grinned. Watching Henry was great, one of Alex’s favorite things to do actually, but getting close. That was even better.

He bounded over to the bench and didn’t so much sit as stretch out across the length of the bench and placed his head in Henry’s lap. He almost giggled when he saw the faint traces of a smile cross Henry’s lips and Alex felt warm and full and sated and complete. Life would really not get better than this.

He reached up and pulled Henry’s loose arm down and intertwined their fingers together only allowing his thumb to graze over the mark.

Alex looked out at the skyline and into the horizon of buildings, ocean, and open possibility.

Whatever was to come next, he thought, they would always have this.

Forever.

The perfection of the moment was interrupted by the vibration of Alex’s phone. He pulled it out and quickly glanced over the notification.

“Oh crap,” he said, but didn’t move.

“What is it?” Henry asked, glancing down at Alex.

“I think we’re going to have to reimburse June,” Alex said.

“For what?”

“She kind of bet Nora that—“ Alex was almost too embarrassed to say it. It felt so silly now, many months removed from what had started it all.

Henry looked at him expectantly.

“She bet Nora that I wouldn’t fall in love with you,” Alex said.

“I see.”

“I kind of goaded her into it.”

“That is not surprising,” Henry said, turning back to his book.

“Hey!” Alex said more as a show than a serious protest, “I was foolish and petulant at the time. But still, I hate losing. Do you want to pretend that we aren’t in love, that this whole thing is a charade.”

“I think that would be difficult, given the People’s cover story last week,” Henry said, and Alex smiled, he’d bought the cover with their official portrait and he thought he would put it in a frame and give it to Henry as a sort of gag gift, “Besides, Gran just admitted that she actually kind of likes you. I’ll take it that eventually she’ll like you more than me.”

“I win over everybody in the end,” Alex said, and Henry dropped the book and ran his fingers through Alex’s curls.

“Yes,” Henry said, his voice in that one word was so warm and bright and so distinctly Henry that Alex couldn’t help but swoon.

“Yes, you do. I am proof of that.”

“Yes, you are,” Alex said, lifting himself up and pulling Henry down into a kiss.

Love was a choice indeed.


End file.
